KOF 2011 II.Awakenings - [KOF II: Awakenings] Nothing One Can Do

Description: That little gift Zach received has brought him nothing but trouble. The choker he was given has refused to come off his neck, and now he is incapable of completely controlling his psionic powers. Retreating back to Southtown at one of his old residences, Zach Glen considers his options while his friend, Howard Rust, comes by with the latest futile attempt to pry it off... just in time for Carrol and one of his zealot buddies to try and ensure that the unstable psi user won't be able to get in their way in the future! Is there really nothing one can do to stop them... or will there be a cost in exerting everything at one's fingertips?



Zach's Warehouse.

Zach had, upon returning to his little safehouse, given another call to Howard Rust. The psychic invited the Kyokugen Weaponeer over to share some more information that he had come by after talking to Antoine and rooting through Neo League footage. Rust had arrived shortly after that, and Zach is pointing out Brihan Bogale and one Carrol Jayne as the two give Ken Masters a working over on the World Warrior's own show. "There," Zach says pausing the video on his laptop, "That's the bitch what did it to Antoine." Zach frowns. "The collar twigged out again... when I went to see him. I'm beginning to think there might be a connection." He shakes it off for the time being.

"Anyway," Zach says quickly. "You said you had an idea about the collar?"

Mr. Rust is done with this necklace nonsense as Zach tries to explain to him his ideas about what's being connected to what, which people are being problems on the world scale...
Screw the world scale, he has a problem /right here/ that he'd like to have taken care of right now.
"If there's... one way to get this off," he mumbles to himself, "'n... 'n I can't believe I didn't think of this before I, uh, had a drink or two."
Four, actually.
"Just... I dunno, maybe you should... lie down, hold still, 'n we'll get it off," Howard Rust, slightly drunk, revs up a chainsaw. He looks absolutely awful, as though he just had one of the worst possible days of his life, "'m not gonna try the, the goddamn sander again."

"I..." Zach's eyes go wide when the chainsaw gets to going. He slides away a bit wildly from the larger man. "I... I think you need to calm the hell down, man..." Zach is sweating nervously. "Because I really don't think you want me nervous... at all."

The chainsaw is being stubborn. It's old, and the man hasn't used it in some time. You could say it's... a little rusty and frankly nobody should actually be attempting to use this because it is in such shoddy condition as far as chainsaws go.
"Zach, okay, look," Howard lifts his head up, clearing his throat and speaking a bit louder, "just, just don't panic, I mean... it's loud! It's... really, really loud," oh is it ever, "but, but if anything can get that, that thing off, it's... it's gotta be this."

"IT'S A FUCKING CHAINSAW" Zach blurts out as he kicks his legs up and behind him to throw himself over the couch he /was/ sitting on, allowing the furnature to get between himself and the Rustmonster. "YOU ARE NOT GETTING THAT DAMN THING NEAR MY NECK! YOU HEAR ME OLD MAN?" Zach is yelling at the top of his lungs trying to get through to Rust.

The events surrounding the King of Fighters may have been too much for Howard Rust's mind to take.

"Y-Yeah it's a, it's a god damn chainsaw," Howard says almost inaudibly over the noise as he sets it down on the hard warehouse floor. For some reason, it doesn't just grind horribly, let alone tip over and lose balance while Zach goes to hide behind a couch.
Maybe in his desperation, the older guy just can't remember why he was hesitant to get this thing out at first.
"Yeah? Well, fine, just, I'll leave it runnin' and, and when you're ready I'll just... hold your head down just, real gentle-like, 'n..."
He gestures uselessly with his hand, leaving the loud thing buzzing and running and otherwise guzzling precious, precious gasoline. "The hell else are, are we gonna do?!"

It's easier said than done, really, but Zach /has/ his answer. "I'm going to hunt that old hag down, and get /her/ to get this thing off of me," Zach replies evenly. "Why don't you shut that thing off. You're stinking the place up with the exhaust fumes."

It should be noted that Zach does not relocate from behind that couch. His eyes are /locked/ on that chainsaw.

"No, no, I'm tellin' you what you're gonna do," Howard starts waving his left hand, a pointer finger at Zach as he reluctantly trips the thing off with one of his feet, "we're... we're gonna get that thing off you, put it on /her/, 'n... 'n then try it on her to see if it works so, so we can get it off of--"
He's not too drunk to realize how stupid this idea is, catching himself with a facepalm. "All right, I'm sorry, okay, I'm, I'm sorry. Come out of... out of the couch." He coughs a few times at the exhaust fumes.

THIRTY MINUTES AGO

Rust leaves his apartment in his new-but-dingy truck, veritably a vehicle already showing signs of attachment to its master. As Rust's truck rounds a corner, its rear fender tags a nearby garbage can, but is no worse for the wear - save some scraped chrome. Rust, in his amazing state of mind, continues on towards Zach's warehouse.

The camera pans out here, and anybody with eyes can see that the garbage can he'd nudged is not, actually, a garbage can. For one, it's made entirely out of metal. For another, it's -moving-. As freely as a child might wave its rattle, the large man attached to this "garbage can" lifts his "sledge hammer" to his sneering face, chapped lips tugged upwards in what can only be described as victory. Carrol sniffs at the chrome staining his weapon, twice, before lumbering in the direction of Rust's truck.

"Fuckin' address book didn't even have his girlfriend's apartment in it. Shouldn't even need to be headin' here, if Tomoko hadn't -jumped the goddamn gun-.."

Grumbling, he snaps a small, leatherbound book shut, and slams it into a back pocket. Soon, he vanishes into Southtown's dark streets.

NOW

*KNOCK* The knock is capitalized -and- starred because it's kind of the barest sort of "knock"... this is a sound verging more on the "controlled explosion" end of the spectrum. Also, the door being knocked on bulges inwards in a rather disconcerting manner.

"howar-" *KNOCK* The door splinters. "-t, loved the flipbooks, visited the cute girl on pa-" *KNO-CRASH* The door -explodes open-, fragments shooting towards Zach's television, his couch, the pre-operative Rust, and, yes -- the chainsaw.

"-T, BUT HEY, SON, YOUR TRUCK'S GOT A REAL "NEW CAR" SMELL TO IT! Maybe watch where you're fuckin' DRIVIN' next time??"

Carrol does not -move- towards Rust and Zach. He lumbers. That grin is not the grin of a friendly man.

Zach was about to retort to Rust's comments when his eyes go wide. Something in his gut rages a split second before the collar reacts. 'Reacts', in this case is like calling the sun 'hot' or water 'wet'. It simply does not cover things nearly as adequately. Zach takes the only response he can at the moment, dropping to the floor with the couch between himself and the door.

The couch, unfortunately, is a loss. It was purchased cheap, but it is dead, Jim. The psychic peeks his head up over the ruined upholstry, eyeing the monsterously large man that just walked into the hole in the wall that was his front door. The psyker's emerald eyes narrow, then go wide. "Rust," he says with a shaking voice. "That's the guy who was with Brihan. When they beat up Masters."

Zach's mind is racing. During the initial blast, the sword that Zach would have been using was blasted clear across the building... which may as well be on the other side of the world as far as things are concerned here. He looks at Carrol as a storm of emotions rage through him.

Purple energy boils around Zach's frame as his psychic talents start to get away from him in the building rage...

COMBATSYS: Zach has started a fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Zach             0/-------/-------|


COMBATSYS: Zach gathers his will.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Zach             0/-------/---====|


Why does this all have to be so /hard/, Howard grouses incomprehensible grunts at Zach's general reluctance to his almost fail-safe idea to get the stupid choker off even though it is a physically impossible object that has thus far broken as many rules as the man is aware of in so much as getting it on in the first place.
That choker is well out of the shop teacher's league in terms of mechanical understanding and, well, everything else.
"Zach, I said, I said get from behind the couch, it's, it's off," Mr. Rust grumbles as he rubs his forehead, field of vision lowered and having a complete failure of comprehension as to what's going on behind him, "don't, don't--"
He doesn't really make out much of the mumbling, but now there's a number of sharp splinters of door trying in vain to embed themselves in his upper back and his neck. Maybe the alcohol has dulled the theoretical pain a bit, but none of them go in deep enough to draw any blood.
The chainsaw, on the other hand, falls over and spins across the floor dangerously even though the engine's no longer on, which would be rather disconcerting to one of Zach's ankles if he leaned too hard to his right.
When Carrol shouts, Howard actually thinks to turn around and see this huge, lumbering man grinning down at him and-- oh my god this guy is huge.
"Uh... what?" Rust looks up. One of his knees start to twig out, a wince on his face. "Who the... who the hell are you, uh, Zach, this, this isn't one of your friends, is it, Zach--"
Maybe he should've been paying more attention to the laptop!

COMBATSYS: Rust has joined the fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Zach             0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0             Rust


COMBATSYS: Rust takes no action.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Zach             0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0             Rust


COMBATSYS: Zach still bears the choker, which shimmers an odd color.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Zach [E]         0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0             Rust


Floorboards creak and splintered wood protests with every step Carrol takes towards his current victims, while their cries, energy outbursts, and disbeliefs wash over him like so much water over a long-rounded rock. He stops, finally, when he's roughly three feet before Rust, and some ten away from the freakin' out Zach. That sledgehammer at his side *SLAMS* into the wood beneath it, leaving an appropriately-sized dent in its wake, and acts as a grisly stand for the giant to lean upon.

"Y'don't know who I am? Been in the news, washout. Kicked some champion's ass, gonna feed your friend his a -second- time, 'cause, let's be fair..." He is no longer leaning on that sledgehammer. Standing, Carrol pulls a duffel bag from behind his back, jam-PACKED with something, and drops it roughly on the ground beside his hammer. Now unencumbered, he takes one step towards Rust...

And one enormous arm -LASHES- out, ham-fingers intended to ensnare the old teacher in a headlock, neck crushed between flexing musculature and the brick house that *IS* Carrol's midsection. Eyes blazing, the Anemoi thrasher would then look up, make definite eye-contact with one Zach Glen, and make his triumphant cry:

"HEY! FAGGOT! LOOK UP HERE, SEE WHAT YOUR LAZY ASS IS WINNIN' YOUR OLD MAN, HERE! Y'GONNA KEEP SITTIN' AROUND FOR A WHILE, OR PULL THAT TAMPON OUTTA THERE AND START ACTIN' RIG-" He's inaudible over the sound of his *fist* colliding with Rust's FACE, over, and over, and over, and -over- again.

Well. He's kind of audible. It's all laughter. Deep, angry, buffalo laughter.

COMBATSYS: Carrol has joined the fight here on the right meter side.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Zach [E]         0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0           Carrol
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Rust             0/-------/-------|


COMBATSYS: Rust blocks Carrol's Better Metal Snake.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////////  ]
Zach [E]         0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0           Carrol
[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Rust             0/-------/------=|


Howard has seen his fair share of bigger, buffer ne'er-do-wells back at home, but there is something to be said about just the sheer power this man before him has to bear, metal smashing through wood as though it were a mere part of the natural order itself and showering the forty-year-old man in further splinters that superficially affix themselves to whatever parts of his flesh they manage to reach. But something about that term 'washout' just kind of stings a whole lot deeper than any sort of splinter near his eye can (yes, there is one near his eye).
Not quite as much as the big, powerful hand up against his neck as he is whipped into a headlock that threatens to choke the air right outta him! "Gah! Ah!! Le, legoo," he whimpers pathetically after getting some really, really bad flashbacks of being stuck in Zangief's grasp.
The defense he can offer is, on the whole, relatively feeble, an elbow creaking the moment the first punch decks him between the eyes. Every other subsequent punch is met with his right hand - the one with the bad grip - effectively sissy-slapping at them, one eye already bruised enough it's hard to see where the next punch is coming in, with largely mixed results.
Those punches hurt no matter which part of your body they hit, his scarred right hand already singing in pain after taking a good two of those repeated punches straight to the palm.

COMBATSYS: Rust takes no action.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////////  ]
Zach [E]         0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0           Carrol
[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Rust             0/-------/------=|


Zach's eyes go wide as the bruiser goes not for him (which would almost be the smarter choice from a tactical standpoint) but for Rust. Carrol is either really stupid, or smarter than he'd appear if he was fishing for a reaction from the psychic. Rust gets pummelled by the massive man right before his eyes.

Rust is /tough/, though, bearing the assault with his usual sturdiness. Zach, however, has already connected several dots in this puzzle. He has, he thinks, a fairly clear picture of what is going on. His face contorts with anger. "What did you do to them," Zach asks in a level voice that /has/ to be forced. Zach grabs the wreckage of his couch and flicks it to one side almost contemptuously as the soul power burns through his system.

"What did you do to Amy Johnson and Ken Masters," Zach demands as he launches towards Carrol with a hand aimed at the monster's throat!

COMBATSYS: Carrol blocks Zach's Fierce Combo.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////       ]
Zach [E]         0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0           Carrol
[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Rust             0/-------/------=|


Zach's hand slams into Carrol's throat, but the big man will not go down, it seems. Zach roars as he slams an effort of will through his extended arm, smashing into Carrol's upper body with thunderous impact!

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ANTOINE?!?" Zach roars as he builds still more energy within his body, bracing his feet while still grabbing onto the Anemoi's neck.

"I--" A muffled voice??! Where's it coming from? The duffel bag rocks around -on its own- before one booted foot BURSTS free from its relatively thin material. This foot is followed by a pallid leg, all the way up to its knee - and then robes, another leg, and the entire rest of one of the Gaia Cult's members spills free, hair matted before his eyes and face, expression tormented, lips trembling, slightly blue.

"Can't..." *GASP* "...Breathe!" The Zealot gets to his feet, quivering with his rapid return to consciousness, and settles eyes immediately on - Zach Glen. Rust's already being HANDLED, figures the Cultist; Zach needs some love.

"--And I don't use tampons!! Those aren't even for BOYS!" He's bringing his hands before him, expression unreadable through his mask of hair, but this... does not matter. The air shapes itself around him, coalesces into his hand, its tint reddish-purple, its *feel* slimy, unclean. "FOR GAIA! LEAVE CARROL TO HIS HOLY WORK!" This burst -sears- across Zach's warehouse, targetting the building's owner square in his back!

In the meantime, Carrol is throat-grabbed, as much as one normal-sized man might profess to being able to grab Carrol's *anything*. The large man speaks freely despite Zach's grip on him, even attempts to get one... more... punch against Rust. Zach's force, accented by the choker he wears, *SLAMS* into Carrol's form through that point of contact, and sends the berserker down to a knee, forces him to give his sledgehammer a -very- considering look.

Of course, then he's bringing his attention back towards Rust. His lips twist upwards, a cynical, sadistic sort of smile pulling at them - those hate-filled eyes roll towards Zach, fully aware of the danger the youth already faces.

"D'you wanna know? I'll tell you once I'm done takin' your buddy out. 'Course, it'd make you some damn poor kinda "hero"... that's what you're wantin' to be, right?" With the inevitability of a landslide, Carrol's hands come together to form one giant... mega-fist, and are summarily SLAMMED towards either of Rust's knees. After all, Carrol's on the ground - why not take out the targets of opportunity?

COMBATSYS: Zealot1 has joined the fight here on the right meter side.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Zach [E]         0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0           Carrol
[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Rust             0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0          Zealot1


COMBATSYS: Rust dodges Carrol's Castratikron.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Zach [E]         0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0           Carrol
[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Rust             0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0          Zealot1


COMBATSYS: Zealot1 successfully hits Zach with Gospel Blast.

[      \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Zach [E]         1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0           Carrol
[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Rust             0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0          Zealot1


By the way, a headlocked Rust near the company of an angry Zach coursing immeasurable amounts of psionic power into a guy currently headlocking you is, really, not a pleasant experience. One of his knees act up so much that he's willing to compromise his balance to bend it /just to get the friggin' feeling out/.
This costs him, a bit, as Carrol falling to his knee sees him falling over especially clumsily, but the act at least gets him out of the headlock with little more than a pained neck, a black eye, and a really sore right hand.
That's not 'a little.'
"Christ," Howard shakes his head as he tries to get his head into the game. He's not inebriated beyond reason or comprehension - he sure as hell wouldn't have driven this way if he were - but the way Carrol just burst in to begin with, not to mention the events of the day prior just take him a whole lot of time to warm up.
Carrol's powerful fists ball up together and the shop teacher is faced with a very difficult decision. Take it, mitigate it? Take it, mitigate it?
Fuck it I'm rolling, is what Rust decides as a roll to his side on the floor sees the two clasped together fists destroy another section of floor, instead of his legs. This is a man who could be proud of his ability to take punches, but that's an ample demonstration, right there, that that's a punch he'd rather not be in the way of period.
"I, I dunno 'bout this... takin' his buddy out, business," Howard grouses as he slowly pulls himself up. His right hand sore and a bit numb, appears hesitant to go towards Ol' Rusty by his left hip. With one deep breath, he draws it from a kneel.
The undrawing is not entirely smooth, but one or two good tugs does it as he rises up, a bad crink on his left elbow he flexes out, the rusted length of pipe pointed outwards and back as he leans forward, leading with his unarmed hand in front of him. "Maybe I'm, I'm washed up, but, but I ain't one of those... uh, tomato cans."
The bad comeback aside, his eyes narrow as he tries to get his head back in the game at all here.
Well, into the game at all, as it were.

COMBATSYS: Rust focuses on his next action.

[      \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Zach [E]         1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0           Carrol
[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Rust             0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0          Zealot1


Zach howls in pain as the blast of wrongness sears into his back. He gives the zealot a murderous glare before turning his attention back to Carrol. "You don't really know me at /all/," Zach growls as pulls a fist back.

"You'd better tell me while still have a jaw, hotshot," Zach snarls as he pulls his right hand back. Zach's power screams into existance as the energy wraps around the fist. "You break into my house, attack my guest," Zach yells as blood trickles from his nose, "Let me show you how we handle that kind of bullshit where I'm from."

Zach drives that enshrouded fist directly into Carrol's face. The zealot will keep, for now.

COMBATSYS: Carrol endures Zach's Blast Bash.

[      \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////                  ]
Zach [E]         1/-----==/=======|=======\=------\1           Carrol
[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Rust             0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0          Zealot1


"UGHN!" Two things happen, neither one of which is particularly GOOD for Carrol. For one - Rust -rolls- out of the way. It prompts one terrifically angry eyebrow to shoot into Carrol's spiked-back hairline, while leaving the man moving to -quickly- SLAP one hand down into the floor and offer himself some balance... and a chance, however poor, at dealing with the particular force Zach brings to bear. This is the second part of the trade - Zach Glen's sassmouth and -driving- force. It collides with a tremendous sound, a fierce explosion of energy that briefly obscures Carrol (which is a feat in itself), then diminishes to display Carrol, slammed *squarely* into his own massive hammer, heels-over-head and quite soundly unconscious.

Behind Zach and Rust, staring at this -disaster-, is the aforementioned Zealot. Ever recovered from his entrapment, he has gained his bearings, assembled himself - his hair still lies over his face, and his features are still unrecognizable. Shaking, he manages to fold his hands within his sleeves, returns to some place deep within himself. His lips begin to move. In seconds, the young man is once more ensconced in that malevolent energy, a brilliant purple-red that grows to enfold not just himself, but the majority of the room. Soon, all is tinted an unsettling, hateful tint - from the battered chainsaw on the floor to the shattered couch to Zach's television, to Zach, to Rust, to the sweat glistening on either man, and behind them...

Towards the fist Carrol has placed on his sledgehammer, white-knuckled, veins almost exploding from his flesh.

"...FUCKIN' TOMOKO! GIVIN' THESE SALLIES SOMETHIN' LIKE THAT, FUCKIN'..." Teeth grit, he's absolutely -beyond- himself. The giant squares his shoulders and -lurches- towards Zach in a rush of flesh and ironbound muscle, leading shoulder-first to attempt to knock the young psion to the ground. If this hits, Zach's going to find himself -straddled- by Carrol, staring towards the worst end of the man's downwards-pointed sledgehammer, now held a mere foot overhead.

COMBATSYS: Zach endures Zach's Blast Bash.

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////                   ]
Zach [E]         2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=------\-------\0           Carrol
[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Rust             0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0          Zealot1


COMBATSYS: Zach fails to interrupt Go Forth and Die from Carrol with Burst Strike EX.

[                        \\\\\\  < >  ///////////                   ]
Zach [E]         0/-------/=======|=------\-------\0           Carrol
[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Rust             0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0          Zealot1


"And as our holy Gaia spake unto its servant our Lord utilized a tone most forceful and urgent gesturing to all the conceited peoples of the tarnished plains tainted valleys, and spoilt lakes." Feverish tones now rise above the rest of the room, a horrific background to Carrol's trembling form and hammer. "'These are the lands' spake Gaia unto its servants 'whose peoples didst harvest their sins and sow the sins of their peers. To you mine servant I ask a simple sacrifice of blood and form to free me of these tyrant kings and unfit successors to you mine servant I request that thee..." His pitch raises, the glow in the room turns -HARD-, and it is not the priest who finishes his chant...

It is Carrol. "GO FORTH, AND -DIE-!" That sledgehammer -SLAMS- down, while sheets of holy, hateful earthen energy rain down from the shattered roof, angled towards the distant Rust.

Zach sees Carrol coming in for the kill. He knows that letting seven-feet-huge of Blood Raging pain get in that close to him is just asking for trouble. All the same, Zach /also/ figures that Carrol Jayne has taken a bit of a beating to this point. He might not be able to /take/ much more of what Zach can dish out. The psion plants his feet, setting his stance as Carrol closes. Soul Power screams through his fist with thunderous noise.

Zach times carefully, and steps /in/ towards the larger man as the distance closes. The fist drives forward, laden with immense psychic might...

...only to sweep by Jayne's flank without connecting. The burst of psychic energy is launched anyway, Zach being unable to contain it any longer at this point. The burst rushes out, and smashes a hole in the side of the warehouse large enough to drive Katana's truck through. Zach is floored, his head bouncing off of the concrete floor. Stars swim in Glen's vision, rendering him unable to even scramble free while his nervous system gets things straightened out.

The hammer crashes down, the sound of crunching ribcage audible over the impact. Zach cannot even scream, the wind being driven out of his lungs by the cratering force of Carrol's sledgehammer. Zach stays very still. It is hard to tell if he is out, or just playing dead for a moment. He's pretty convincing...

COMBATSYS: Rust interrupts Gospel Wave EX from Zealot1 with Bulldozer EX.

[                        \\\\\\  < >  ///////////                   ]
Zach [E]         0/-------/=======|=------\-------\0           Carrol
[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Rust             0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0          Zealot1


For all the cursing and the smashing Carrol makes, there remains two worrying points. One, there's actually another guy present. Two...
What the hell just happened to the room?
Howard looks upon the bizarre color that envelops the increasingly damaged hideout, an unsettling chill shuddering through his bones. He is not particularly chi sensitive, but even /he/ can feel it. Something that compels him to look over his shoulder, away from where Carrol is about to smash Zach to bits.
Teeth grit. For all their differences in their lives, Howard feels he can trust Zach to hold his own when faced with this other problem, the ominous chanting man who is clearly up to absolutely no good. He can't turn his back on this one.
"Zach!" Rust calls back as he turns around, "I, I got this other one."
Immediately, he holds Ol' Rusty in front of himself horizontally, in two hands. He squats down, as if sitting on an invisible chair, starting to shudder as though he were sitting in an invisible vehicle of some sort, tensing himself up as he takes off.
The launched psychic energy just barely misses him, one of his aching knees the only acknowledgment his body makes of this fact as his feet glide forward against bumpy, splintered floor as he charges along towards the zealot a ways away.
It's difficult for him to concentrate it to go as great a distance as he is in this instance, the sledgehammer's downward slam a ways away threatening his balance. Bits and pieces of chi-imbued roof strike against Howard's back.
One of his feet even go over an outright hole, but his posture holds true through the entire charge as he chances an encounter with the chanting zealot, brushing up against him to push him along up against one of the walls before flipping onto his backside, tossing away the Zealot with a scoop of his legs.
He has not yet turned around to see just how badly things have gone for Zach.

It's a terrible collision. Thankfully, it isn't TWO. The Zealot's wave of pregnant, dark force shaves past Rust, dissolving weakly against the shattered wooden paneling behind where he might have been standing. That's the -not- one... Zach is in a different place, entirely. That place is -- beneath Carrol's hammer. The brute *SLAMS* it down, eliciting all of the pseudo-shrieks he can from the young psion, broad smile contorted into a malevolent, bloody grin all the while. The Anemoi is certainly wounded... but there's something to be said for the power of bloodlust over the needs of the body.

Carrol steps away from Glen once he's certain (relatively!) that the youngster is down for the count, and it'd be a palpable relief. All that two hundred pounds of solid metal was probably getting in the way of *breathing*. Carrol turns to face his companion and the now abnormally hover/flying shop teacher -- and it's that Bulldozer which saves Zach's life. Carrol's fingers were already clenched tight around the handle of his weapon, his heel already grinding the wood beneath it, the torque applied.

Jayne sees Rust do -something-. It stops him from that killing blow.

"The -fuck- is that??" The advantage to being Carrol is that you are Carrol-sized. The disadvantage - one the other Anemoi will likely remind him of, time and time again - is that sometimes, it takes a little bit longer to process things.

---

"into the flaming seas and the fors-ake-hn-gh-HGNH!" Carrol's lackey is sent SLAMMING into the wall, a sprawl of dirtied robes and mussied hair. He lands awkwardly, caught on his neck and shoulder, and is forced to enact an awkward, backwards somersault in an attempt to gain his feet. The glow in the room rapidly recedes -- in the blink of an eye, virtually all of it is gone, save for a small, reddish nimbus around each of the Zealot's clenched fists. He advances upon Rust, eyes -blazing- despite their oily, matted cover, and LUNGES for the older man's neck.

"YOU WOULD INTERRUPT?! DEFEND THIS ABYSMAL CREATION?" It's not controlled - there's no focus in the Zealot's movements, no technique applied. Every contact is an attempt at a grapple, every touch of those tainted hands a prolonged encounter with caustic surfaces.

"I WILL REMOVE YOU THEN, AS WELL!"

COMBATSYS: Carrol takes no action.

[                        \\\\\\  < >  ////////////                  ]
Zach [E]         0/-------/=======|=------\-------\0           Carrol
[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Rust             0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0          Zealot1


Zach squeezes his eyes shut; if this is to be the killing strike, he does not want to see it coming in. And then Rust pulls out the proverbial save, doing something... utterly improbable! Zach cracks one eye open when Jayne goes all Double-you-tee-eff on Howard.

He also decides to stay down. He needs one more /good/ shot to take Carrol down, he figures. However, he doesn't have that good shot in him yet, either.

Zach decides to take a step to fix that in the short term. With all of the crazy light shows going on, the faint purple that sheathes the young psion's form might just go unnoticed. Here's to hoping...

COMBATSYS: Zach gathers his will.

[                      \\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////                  ]
Zach [E]         1/----===/=======|=------\-------\0           Carrol
[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////////         ]
Rust             0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0          Zealot1


COMBATSYS: Zealot1 successfully hits Rust with Holy Beatdown.
- Power hit! -

[                      \\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////                  ]
Zach [E]         1/----===/=======|=------\-------\0           Carrol
[         \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////////         ]
Rust             0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0          Zealot1


Yes, there is a fully grown man out there who can pull stuff like that with a straight face - deal with it, is what the older man would say if he were in a sassier mood and not just in the middle of trying to fight for Zach's life and, probably, his own from the looks of things.
As it is, he's having a slow time of pulling himself back up, working out the stiffness as he pulls himself out of... /that/ technique, that elicits so much confusion from the giant Carrol. The bizarre color fades from the room, and the shop teacher's working himself up to something of a kneel.
The zealot politely helps him the rest of the way up, lifting him by the neck and slamming him into the wall - to say absolutely nothing of how that /chi/ just burns to the touch - something that compensates plenty enough for how much physical strength, otherwise, the zealot would have to use to begin choking this man to death.
To say nothing of the wrestling that goes-on in between, where both show their relative unfamiliarity with the finer points of wrestling - with Rust clearly at the disadvantage, slowed by stiffened joints surprise, and his breath slowly leaving him.
"That, that ain't," he whimpers as he finds himself in a very similar situation to when he was taking on Zangief, that fighting against infernal strength outmatching his - except in this case, it is not by muscle. It is by sheer cussedness and zealotry that this other guy with that disturbing, hateful face that this zealot is, in fact, winning this.
This time there's a lot more at stake than just a lifelong dream - it feels like life itself is on the line.
"That ain't no... abysmal... whatever," the older man scowls as he somehow manages to bring his left hand up towards the top of the Zealot's scalp, an attempt to faceplant the dangerously faithful servant with one powerful flex of his arm downwards, drawing Ol' Rusty back behind himself.
"That guy's my, my friend," the cliche goes in spoken, choked tones as he does so.

COMBATSYS: Zealot1 fails to interrupt Brick Stacker from Rust with Sanctimony Strike.

[                      \\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////                  ]
Zach [E]         1/----===/=======|=------\-------\0           Carrol
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////             ]
Rust             0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0          Zealot1


Slowly, the gears turn for Carrol. He realizes that, whatever the case, Rust's paranormal abilities to float forward -aren't important-, and, more prevalent, he has a PSION directly behind him. While the Anemoi is by no means the sharpest tool in the shed, he is -still- Anemoi -- a being whose connection to the Earth goes further than any other, a being aware, fully, of what currents flow through his guardian and matron. By this whim, he is equally aware of those currents that do -not-... and Zach Glen, however skilled at playing possum he may be...

"STILL UP, PRICK?!"

Isn't good enough to keep Carrol from figuring out what he's up to. The brute turns with speed that denies his frame's limitations, the blood streaming from his nose, his left eye -- and his fist is MOVING, FORWARD, with alacrity enough to suggest that Carrol is -very- much intending to end this fight. Here. On Zach's face.

---

Rust's plaintive defenses of Zach have Carrol's accomplice laughing in his face - as Rust writhes beneath his soiled touch, the misguided wrath of some forgotten deity. "You call that a friend??? His energies sup upon the gifts given to him by Mother Gaia! Your friendship is no more genuine than the God you claim servitude towards!! Every breath, step, and day you take -- he will access, rape, and covet! He is the very..." While he speaks, the Zealot's hands move quickly, continuing their hateful crush of Rust's windpipe. Even as the older man lifts an arm in self defense, the Zealot's bringing his own up in an attempt to block the attack --

"HE IS THE VERY ANTITHESIS OF OUR GLORIOUS MOTHER EARTH'S VISION FOR US! HE IS AMBITION, HE IS PRIDE, HE IS BLIND, SELF-SERVING GREE--" Scalp: Grabbed.

"HGNH!"

Face: Slammed.

COMBATSYS: Zach blocks Carrol's Better Metal Snake.

[                         \\\\\  < >  ////////////                  ]
Zach [E]         1/----===/=======|==-----\-------\0           Carrol
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////             ]
Rust             0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0          Zealot1


Zach's emerald eyes widen as the strike slams in. Zach manages to get his arms up in front of him and twist to the side to parry Carrol's strike before rolling back and away. He comes to his feet... right next to the sword. Zach snatches it up. It may be time to initiate some kind of Omega Protocol here, if such a thing existed.

"Rust!" Zach yells hoarsely. "Get yer ass out of here!" he yells as he hurriedly clips the sword to his belt. More of that violet energy roils around Zach as he brings his hands to his right hip in one of the most classic of stances.

"HEY!" Zach yells at the Zealot. "I'll have you know I give a lot of my fight money to charity, thank you very much!" Zach twists at the hips, shoving his hands forward with forceful intent. Soul Power crackles between Glen's palms for a brief moment before a beam as wide as Carrol is tall lances out into the night, carving a trench in the floor and blasting out the side of the warehouse, making the already large hole even larger.

However, where the first blast pretty much stopped with the wall, the beam continues through the next building...

"I don't, I don't know what you're... you're gettin' on 'bout," Howard says as he rises up, a couple coughs breaking up further dialogue as he spends the time rubbing his neck. "Zach's... one of the, I mean, one of the hardest-working people I've ever known," he continues, standing tall and making use of his height advantage to try and get his words across while he's in a position of clear superiority, although even he is taken aback by the ferocity in which the Zealot spews Zach's failings, which begs a question unto itself. "Are we even... talkin' 'bout the same person here?"
When Zach yells his warning, Rust takes note, looking down to the floored zealot. "Uh, yeah, I'd... I'd do what he says," the teacher says helpfully in a rare moment of altruism given how fervent that there zealot might be in killing both of them dead, trying to scoop him up forcefully in his free hand while bashing his shoulder against the door out, to bring the two of them out of harm's way.
Unfortunately, his grasp around the zealot's waist, if he allows him to anyway, is not particularly gentle. Adrenaline is more the culprit than anything.

COMBATSYS: Zach successfully hits Carrol with Burst Stream.

[                       \\\\\\\  < >                                ]
Zach [E]         0/-------/-------|=======\==-----\1           Carrol
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////             ]
Rust             0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0          Zealot1


COMBATSYS: Zealot1 blocks Rust's Quick Throw.

[                       \\\\\\\  < >                                ]
Zach [E]         0/-------/-------|=======\==-----\1           Carrol
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////              ]
Rust             0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0          Zealot1


"Hngh..." It's not even a question of strength, at this point - Zach got his arms up in time. Carrol's expression dims, if only a bit, and Zach's well aware of the -rage- building up within the larger man, even now. It's to Zach's benefit, then, that he's able to find his feet as quickly as he does - Carrol's already swinging at that same spot, -again-, with enough force to create an actual absence of floor, where prior there was a pleasant divot in the wooden planks. True to the brute's plight, he looks up in time - barely in time - to see Zach -chargin'- his -lazor-. The Anemoi exhibits superhuman speed in his last attempt at retribution: he lunges towards Zach, already struck in the chest by the psion's Burst Stream, veritably fighting against an overwhelming current. Steps slow quickly, become herculean efforts, and in gruesome display, -every- superficial vessel on Jayne's overmuscled form is shown, stark against his flesh. His expression, gritted as it is, becomes like a grinning skull's own, and he manages one. final. fist to the face.

"...-FUCKER!" Carrol Jayne is blown away after his wild swing, thrown through the would-be wall of Zach's house, and presumably through whatever had been behind it.

---

It speaks to the Zealot's... fanaticism, that he maintains his frame of mind despite Rust's altruism. Amidst the psionic barrage occuring the very next room over, it'd be impossible to land from such a jarring GRASP - the Zealot manages this with solidly-planted feet, and a firm knock of his head against the wall. He casts a murderous gaze upon Rust, but is soon back upon the pulpit, as it were. "...Who lived in that house, beyond the wall? What of the damages to their home, their livelihood? This sin is repeated thousandfold every day, with every acre of forest cut, every herd of animal slain. Mankind has shown itself as a force which exists to consume, with care for little other than themselves, wont to ameliorate their troubled souls through pittances distributed here, charities claimed there. The truth lies in our actions, nonetheless! I have yet to meet one who utilizes this strange force for the greater good! Good that surpasses the plight of humanity!" The Zealot -kicks- past Rust, thrusting one hand through the doorway he'd just opened.

Towards Zach.

"This recklessness is the epitome of why your very world is in danger! The Serpent Choker that our leader bestowed upon him, was it not granted out of some desire for immediate gratification, power without consideration of the consequences? Let that be as to a brand upon him, an eternal reminder of the short-sighted choices he makes every day of his life! Would be it that this inspired him to bestow his ill-gotten wisdom upon others... but for every delinquent human we find, there must exist millions more! -THIS-, mongrel, is why the Cult will not stop in their pursuit of man's re-education!"

Again, there is that odd, red light -- and this time, it does not stop growing, nor is it aided by the chanting of a superreligious stranger. With one, final warning flashing behind his eyes, Carrol's Zealot leaves in a flash of black-limned red, to leave Zach and Rust with the torn-up ruins of Glen's warehouse, and the destruction beyond a broken wall.

COMBATSYS: Carrol can no longer fight.

[                       \\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////              ]
Zach [E]         0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0          Zealot1
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Rust             0/-------/-======|


COMBATSYS: Zealot1 has left the fight here.

[                       \\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////          ]
Zach [E]         0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0             Rust


COMBATSYS: Zach dodges Carrol's Face Fisted.

[                       \\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////          ]
Zach [E]         0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0             Rust


Zach roars as Jayne closes in, fear giving /plenty/ of fuel for the supahlazor, shoving the larger man clear out of the warehouse. Zach hears the Zealot's ranting and raving. This was a warehouse, in a whole /district/ of warehouses. Zach chose this place /precisely/ because it was out of the way, because the odds of someone /else/ being here were as remote as one could make it and still live in something approaching civilization.

However, Zach does not respond to the Zealot's words at all. He hears something far more acutely than the ranting of a seeming madman. He hears screams of pain. Sirens can be heard off in the distance. Zach's expression becomes pained as he slumps to the floor.

If Rust didn't know any better, he'd have sworn Zach had just been informed of a death in the family or something. Zach stares at the floor with dead eyes. "You'd better go," the psion says quietly. "There will be people here... with questions." He regards Rust with those hollow eyes, "You get caught up in this, they'll fire you."

COMBATSYS: Zach has left the fight here.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Rust             0/-------/-======|


Howard is met with the stubbornness of a true zealot, one so given to his cause in his difficulty in getting him out the door. In the back of his mind he's thinking, c'mon, out the door, out the door. Out the goddamn door already - he's taken a blast from Zach several times and he'd rather not wish that on anyone.
It is when the Zealot begs that question that Rust stops in his tracks, as if to try and follow his words. Whose house, beyond the--
His eyes follow that complete lack of wall over to the side, tilting his head with a questioning look on his face, an eyebrow raised and his mouth slightly open. Huh? He asks himself as the Zealot continues to narrate on and on some very worrying things - something that goes beyond mere doomsaying unto itself.
"Zach," Howard asks, "what... did you just... do?"
This recklessness, the zealot continues as they loosen themselves from this grip as he goes on that great tirade of Zach's follies and failings, of why these people are after him - that growing light causing the shop teacher to flinch as the colors turn strange and hateful one last time, leaving just the two of them, Zach and Rust together.
"Zach," he repeats again to the sound of sirens and screams, "what... what the hell did you just..."
What Zach says is largely true here. If something truly horrible has happened, just now, right behind the teacher's back... there's no doubt about it. He himself might be pegged for being an accomplice in this mess, to say nothing about what extremely little job security he even has.
The older man gives Zach one last look, a worried one, looking briefly out towards the destruction before moving for his truck in order to just leave before things get really hairy.
Assuming, of course, Carrol didn't thrash the truck along the way in.

COMBATSYS: Rust has ended the fight here.


-----------------------------<Paste from Rust>-----------------------------

============================== Recent Headlines ==============================

Message: 9/13 Posted Author

Gas Leak Causes Explosion Mon Mar 21 2011 Zach

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A massive explosion was reported late Monday evening in the Old Old Warehouse District just outside of Southtown. Three are dead, with about a dozen more wounded in what authorities are calling a gas leak.



(OOC: Psychics around Southtown know almost as soon as they read the paper that the cause mentioned is utter bullshit, as those with any kind of sensitivity to such things noted some kind of psychic disturbance coming from the direction of the Old Old Warehouse District about the time of the explosion. See Zach for details.)

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------------------------<Paste to North Outskirts>-------------------------

Log created on 20:11:02 03/17/2011 by Rust, and last modified on 23:49:37 03/21/2011.